I remember my first compass well. I was in the boy scouts and it had a clear plastic piece, used for magnifying, connected to the actual compass. With it, I could read a map and ascertain direction. It was indispensable for hiking and traveling in the backcountry. Along with a good knife, some rope, and a canteen, I felt well-prepared.

Knowing direction is a handy skill when trying to go from here to there. I acquired a pretty good sense of direction at an early age and also learned how to seek clues about both direction and location. Of course, it always helps to understand where here is before trying to go to there.

I recall one moment when my three young companions and I went purposefully off trail deep in the Cascade mountain range in Washington. We hadn’t seen anyone for at least a couple of days. At some point, slowly making our way through thick forest growth, we realized we were lost. Our topographical map didn’t help as much as we’d expected. Neither did our compasses. Being lost is not the best feeling, especially if you know it. If you don’t know it, you just forge ahead until you either luck out or realize the truth of the situation. In this particular situation, I remember we were finally able to read the terrain of the mountains, match it to our map and compass and continue our journey as planned.

Anyone reading this will already have understood the analogy.

A compass has one concrete, objective feature. The needle points north. This is because the earth is a magnet. All magnets have two poles. We call them north and south. The tip of the needle in our little compasses has a tiny magnet on it. It is the opposite of the magnetic field near our north pole. (Magnetic North is actually about 1000 miles south of True North, in Canada. And, to make matters interesting, Magnetic North is shifting towards Siberia. This makes navigating by magnets not a perfectly exact thing. Well, at least we have GPS!)

On a clear and dark night in the Northern Hemisphere, perhaps the most well-known constellation is Ursa Major (or big bear), also known as the Big Dipper. Many people know the star Polaris … also known as the North Star … that it never moves from its stable location in the northern sky, unlike other stars, and can be easily found by drawing a line from two of the Big Dipper’s star outwards. Hence, the North Star is a permanent sign of where True North is.

I was reminded of all of this in a quiet time earlier today. I was reflecting on many of the symbols of Christmas and I recalled the image of a bright and unique star heralding the birth of the Messiah. Often referred to as the Star of Bethlehem, it is only briefly mentioned in scripture but has attained a lofty place in the subsequent lore. Astronomers have tried to figure out what it actually was if, indeed, it actually existed. It could not have been an actual star but maybe a supernova, a comet or a conjunction (temporary alignment) of planets. Whatever the thing actually was, it represented a sign that pointed to something very significant.

I have written many laments over these past two years about how we have lost direction. The theory that there is such a thing as absolute truth, completely independent of what people feel or believe, is out of favor and even fully attacked as oppressive. Everyone’s truth is as valid as anyone else’s. All directions are of equal value and to suggest otherwise is intolerant. In this vein, the only truth (see: there is such a thing as objective truth) is the notion of perfect equality of all things. All roads lead to the same outcome. All paths are equally important and valid. Hence, there is no True North. No maps and compasses that are calibrated to get us to a specific point. There is no “there” there.

But, what if that line of thinking is just plain wrong (as I have argued many times)? It’s either right or wrong. It can’t be both. If it’s wrong, then the only solution is to locate the compass and map, figure out where we are and then figure out how to read the map and chart a course towards the obvious destination.

I am fascinated to learn about how people manage this issue. Having engaged it for many decades, I am intrigued by how and why people either avoid it or the various ways they seek to resolve the dilemma. There’s always a starting point and it’s unavoidable. There’s a “here,” whatever and wherever that is. I was good at avoiding that for a long time. A good topo map, with its defining contours and elevations, is a place to start. What are those things in our real life? Then, what kind of compasses do we use and, if we use them, where does the tiny little magnet at the tip, point to?

When I say, I finally found my map, compass and True North, the skeptic can easily nod and say, “Well, if that works for you…” To which, I can logically reply, “Yes, it does and it’s the same for everyone.” Truth is Truth. This brief exchange could either end there or be the beginning of a fascinating dialogue.

I humbly ask, “What is your north star? Do you have a timeless point of reference towards which all things good point? Does it hold up under scrutiny, even after pulling away the layers to get to a pearl in the middle? Is there a pearl in the middle?”

Mine emerged from the womb 2000 years ago and turned the world upside down. He has never changed his position. His essence is immutable. His magnetic pull is omnipresent. Which begs the question of the nature of our direction finder.

I don’t remember how I obtained that first compass I used. It was probably a gift. I do remember how I obtained my last one. It was also a gift. A gift above all other gifts. On this Christmas, I rejoice in that and will be forever thankful. Amen.